


silver rings

by remaya



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Engagement, Fluff, M/M, Romance, same age au, the hogwarts rumor mill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23845126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remaya/pseuds/remaya
Summary: “Where are we going to live after graduation? Are we going to tell anyone about our relationship, ever? Are you even planning to continue-- us?” Harry cries.Tom blinks, horrified. Then he drops to his knees.“I don’t want a bloody blowjob! I want an explanation,” Harry whisper-yells.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 42
Kudos: 848
Collections: Corona Challenge





	silver rings

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [de_Trices](https://archiveofourown.org/users/de_Trices/pseuds/de_Trices) in the [CoronaChallenge](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/CoronaChallenge) collection. 



As the end of Harry and Tom’s last year at Hogwarts nears, they don’t really talk about what they’re going to do after graduation. Tom is going to intern at the Ministry and Harry is going to leap into Auror training. Tom wants to take the magical world by storm; Harry just wants to help people. These points have been established since fourth year, when Tom showed Harry the Chamber of Secrets and kissed him in front of Salazar Slytherin’s scandalized portrait.

But questions are suddenly bubbling up in Harry, because they’ve kept their relationship secret for so long-- are they ever going to reveal it? Moving in with each other would automatically tell everybody they’re more than close friends, but Tom hasn’t said anything about where they’re each going to live after graduation, which is strange because Tom usually has a plan for everything.

Is Tom ashamed of Harry? Harry knows that Tom’s pureblood… followers might not like him, even though Tom’s openly a half-blood himself. Harry is a Gryffindor, for one, and for another, Harry’s not fashionable at all, and for _another,_ Sirius is his godfather, and purebloods usually dislike Sirius.

During their nightly meetings at the unused tower only accessible through the goodwill of Sir Cadogan’s portrait, Harry grows increasingly discomfited. Tom has said he loves Harry, and Harry’s said it back. He shouldn’t be doubting-- but he _is_.

“What’s wrong, Harry?” Tom says with concern, a month before graduation, in lieu of greeting Harry with his usual kiss. “Is somebody bothering you? You need to tell me these things.”

“You didn’t even kiss me hello today,” Harry bursts out. “And you haven’t touched me at all. I should be asking _you_ that!”

“What,” says Tom, surprised.

“Where are we going to live after graduation? Are we going to tell anyone about our relationship, ever? Are you even planning to continue-- us?” Harry cries.

Tom blinks, horrified. Then he drops to his knees.

“I don’t want a bloody blowjob! I want an explanation,” Harry whisper-yells.

Tom props a knee up in front of him and finally brings his hands out from behind his back, producing a bouquet of lilies in red and orange and white. He looks adoringly up at Harry, and Harry realizes their positions and also the inherent romanticism of the night, the star- and moon-light illuminating the tower, and Tom’s formal robes.

“W- wait a minute,” Harry stutters, struggling to catch up, his hands flying to cover his mouth.

“Harry James Potter,” Tom says.

“I must have passed out during Potions,” Harry says, in disbelief. “Snape is gonna wake me up-- any minute now.”

“Harry James Potter,” Tom says again, more firmly. “I am proposing to you. Stop talking over me.”

Harry subsides, his eyes wide.

Tom pushes the bouquet into Harry’s trembling hands and helps Harry curl his fingers around the stems. “Harry, I will never bind to another. Marry me.” And Tom brings out a little, black box, opens it to reveal a silver ring shining against a dark, velvet pillow.

“I- I--” Harry looks overwhelmed, and his flush has traveled through his cheeks and down his neck. Tom waits, uncharacteristically patient, as Harry tries and fails to gather himself. “Tom-- Tom, I can’t.” Tom springs to his feet in alarm as Harry’s tears spill over in earnest.

“Harry,” he says tenderly, wiping under Harry’s shining eyes with the sleeve of the robes that must have cost him a fortune, “darling, do not cry. Perhaps it was too soon.”

“No!” Harry says, surprising himself with his vehemence, and he flings his arms around Tom’s neck. “I want to-- I meant-- yes! I’ll marry you, Tom! I’m just, I didn’t expect this!”

The last of the tension Tom had carried into the tower melts away. “Well, of course you want to marry me,” he says, his relief not entirely hidden. He hugs Harry back, and then pulls away so he can capture Harry’s lips. When Harry pushes Tom away to catch his breath, Tom peppers kisses over Harry’s forehead, between his eyebrows, on his cheeks, on the tip of his nose, and moves to mouth down Harry’s jaw and neck.

“Wait!” Harry squawks, pulling Tom up again by the lapels with the hand not carefully holding the bouquet. “We have sex _after_ you put the engagement ring on me.”

“Yes, right,” Tom says, disheveled and wanting. He takes care to admire Harry’s beloved fingers, and as he slides the ring-- a perfect fit-- on, the possessive demon in his heart finally quiets and purrs in satisfaction.

Harry is going to bind to him. Harry is his.

“You did ask Sirius, right?” Harry says, holding Tom back with a hand on his chest. 

“Yes, and Remus,” Tom says impatiently.

“Are we going to live together after graduation?”

“Yes,” says Tom. “I’ve already narrowed down our apartment choices, but I didn’t pick yet, because I figured you’d want a say. I also bought you that broom you wanted, and you can have a crup if you really want, if it gets along with Nagini and Hedwig.”

“I love you so much,” Harry breathes, and drops his hand. Tom pounces.

* * *

The next morning, Harry and Tom arrive early to the Great Hall, holding hands. Only Dumbledore and McGonagall are at the staff table, and a handful of students sit at each House’s table; not many are paying attention. Harry bestows a kiss upon Tom’s cheek, and they split to sit at their individual tables.

McGonagall narrows her eyes.

Abraxas Malfoy looks at Tom suspiciously. “Did I just hallucinate, or did Potter kiss you?”

“Harry kissed me,” Tom answers, looking as close to radiantly happy as he can without losing his composure. It’s surreal. 

Abraxas glances towards the Gryffindor table, where Potter is practically glowing. “Right,” he says slowly, trying to put the pieces together and failing; it’s impossible to imagine Riddle with any capacity for romance.

“We’re engaged,” Tom clarifies proudly, showing his ring finger to Abraxas.

Abraxas is still gaping when a commotion starts up at the Gryffindor table, drawing the interest of the Ravenclaws next to it as Ron Weasley leaps up and shouts, “No. Bloody. Way! _Harry!_ ” and Hermione Granger shrieks like a banshee while falling off the bench. Dumbledore takes his glasses off, wipes the lenses with his sleeves, and puts them back on, squinting.

Tom smirks into his porridge. 

Things quiet down for a little while, and then the main wave of students and staff arrives for breakfast. Included in this group is Ginny Weasley, who has decided that she may as well go for it since the year’s almost over anyway, and is marching determinedly over to Harry’s spot.

“Harry,” she addresses him, in that forceful way of hers.

Harry twists around on his bench, beaming. “Good morning, Ginny! Guess what? I’m--”

“Will you go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend? As a date.”

“... engaged,” Harry finishes weakly, and winces.

Ginny falters. “Would you repeat that? I don’t think I heard you right.”

“I’m engaged,” Harry says again, this time fearful. Tom raises his head on the other side of the Great Hall, his Harry-is-in-danger sense tingling.

Ginny scowls thunderously. “What the fuck? Who the _fuck_ with?”

“Tom Riddle,” Harry says after a pause.

“ _What the fuck?_ ” Ginny growls, grabbing Harry by his lapels and hauling him to his feet. They’re about the same height, but Harry cowers all the same; the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables are silent with bated breath, and whispers are traveling through the Hufflepuffs and the Slytherins. “Why the _fuck_ didn’t I know about this? As one of your best fucking friends, I should have known! _Where is he??_ ” She drops Harry and whirls around to point dramatically at Tom, who is striding towards the altercation with murder on his face.

“You are making a scene,” Tom hisses as he nears. Ginny thinks his voice is startlingly even for someone who looks like he wants to strangle her; Harry, recognizing the ice in Tom’s tone, hurriedly puts himself between Tom and Ginny. 

“Tom,” he says, grabbing Tom’s wand hand and making sure that his engagement ring presses into Tom’s skin as a reminder that Harry is his, not Ginny’s. Tom calms down a smidgeon.

“You didn’t even get a shovel talk!” Ginny yells, offended, not to be forgotten. “You bloody relationship-cheater! That’s not bro code!”

“She’s right,” says Ron. Hermione sniffs.

“I am not your bro,” Tom says, mildly confused as to how the situation turned on its head so quickly.

“ _Harry’s_ my bro,” Ginny says. “Keep up, Riddle. Good Godric, Harry, are you marrying an idiot?”

“Er-- maybe a little bit,” Harry admits, squeezing Tom’s hand apologetically. Tom tries to glare at him, betrayed, but it comes out as a sappy smile. Harry smiles back.

“Don’t _do_ that,” says Ron. “That’s disgusting. Gods, keep it to yourself.”

“We’ll shovel-talk you tomorrow during dinner, in the kitchens,” says Hermione, marking it down in her planner.

“You don’t need to do that,” says Harry. “Tom wouldn’t hurt me. Unless it’s, you know...” He blushes furiously.

“We did _not_ need to know,” Ron screeches.

“I want to know,” says Ginny. “C’mon, Harry, gimme the deets. And you’ve gotta eat.”

“No deets while the entire Great Hall is listening in,” Harry says firmly, his face tomato-red even through his darker skin. Tom brushes his lips against Harry’s in a brief goodbye, then watches as Harry’s pulled away into his friends, wipes the sappy smile from his face, and glares at everyone who stares as he stalks back to the Slytherin table, where his Knights of Walpurgis try unsuccessfully to return to their normal morning routine.

McGonagall glances at Dumbledore to judge how to respond, catching sight of Snape's fierce glower on the way. Dumbledore calmly cuts a bite of pancake, dips it in his maple syrup, then eats it while looking over the students with his usual benevolent twinkle in his eye. But there’s a suspiciously clean spot on the table, clear of crumbs, and an empty maple syrup dish laying on its side right next to it, its edge touching the edge of the clean spot.

McGonagall refocuses back on her own porridge as the corner of her lips quirks up the slightest bit. Ah, the wonders of young love.

**Author's Note:**

> i want the deets, but i’d have to write them rip
> 
>  **Prompt:**  
>  Just before Tom leaves Hogwarts, he proposes to Harry after years of a long and loving relationship. The more romantic- the better. Also, maybe their relationship being sort of a secret? So when Harry and Tom walk into the great hall, newly engaged- it sends everyone to a shock. Especially Dumbledore, the Gryffindors and Slytherins.


End file.
